Solace
by GoldenGirl
Summary: My idea of what happens to Cook and Effy after the series, specifically a year later.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Solace

Pairing: Cook/Effy

Spoilers: series 4

Summary: My idea of what happens to Cook and Effy after the series, specifically a year later.

\\\

When Effy is 18 her father's gone to live somewhere else, her brother's too busy with school, her boyfriend's found dead, the man she trusted with her mental well-being is to blame and found dead too, and Cook is in jail.

It's enough to make anyone go mad, and she, already wired with the capacity to do such a thing, does. All the recovery she'd undergone flies out the window and the room she was so ready to give up at the institution becomes something of a permanent residence.

She always thought her life functioned independently from everyone around her; she moved in a world and everyone else, specifically the men, just adorned it. But, then, of course the opposite was true. Her father was her family's rock, her brother was her everything, she loved her boyfriend too much. It's tough losing your mind but it's an even harder thing to lose all of the men in your life.

The thing is, though, when Effy is 19 Cook comes back.

///

The series of events happened like this:

The only reason cops knew to come to John Foster's house was because of a call they received from a boy who stated very calmly into the phone that he'd just killed someone.

He was taken out in handcuffs, fresh blood running down his face thanks to a broken nose. Later it was discovered that there was a broken wrist and broken shin too but Cook never felt any pain. He may have been in handcuffs and in the back of a police car but all Cook felt was a crazy, calming contentment.

At his trial it's a miracle the judge didn't ask him to speak on his own behalf because Cook would've readily admitted no regrets and that he would do it all again. He gets a good lawyer this time and the murder is deemed self defense and Cook is not guilty of it (and is even kind of a hero for finding the man who killed Freddie and being brave enough to face him). It helps that the evidence against John Foster is irrefutable. So Cook is scott free on that one, but he is guilty of having escaped from jail and evading arrest in the first place. The sentence is ironically harsher than what it originally was for beating up that kid.

He has to stay locked up for a year. It's a long time and he doesn't even try to find a way out this go round. When he's set free there's only one place he can go.

\\\

He's a little nervous to see her because it's been so long and she's still in that place so he can only imagine what sort of state she's in. He's not only nervous, he's scared. But fear has never stopped him from doing anything before. The day he gets let out of jail he takes a bus to the institution that's housing Effy and finds her sitting on a bench under a tree. When she sees him she grins and it fills his heart to see that she's happy.

They hug for a long time. "It's good to see ya, Eff." There are tears in his eyes for her; for the long, wasted year; for Freddie.

Some part of him thought he was there for her, but the more he sinks into Effy's embrace the more he realizes just how much good she does for _him_.

///

Cook and Effy sit on a bench and catch up.

Cook doesn't have much to offer to the conversation: life stopped for a year and now he's out, at a halfway house because there's nowhere else to go, and that's about all there is to his story. (He doesn't need to tell her about how he found Freddie's bloodied clothing or how he pounded Mr. Foster's face until all that was left was mulch.) Cook doesn't say much. He listens.

Effy talks about how she's doing a lot better. Some of the gang comes to visit but everyone's spread out now; Naomi and Emily on their globetrotting adventure, Panda and Tomo in America, JJ with his own budding family, oddly, and Katie, who's been good about coming to chat.

For a while there, after it happened (she never directly mentions the incident from a year ago), she broke down and she didn't think she'd ever recover but since that bad spell she's made progress and she still believes in therapy even after John Foster. Though it took a while for that to happen. And while Cook can see that she's well he can also see that the whole mess hasn't left her completely unscathed. Where once Effy Stonem was fearless now she is full of fear. She's afraid to leave this place and rejoin the real world. She talks to him about feeling paranoid a lot of the time. And she talks a lot—often to herself, aloud. (It's easier to sort things out, she explains. There's too much going on in her head and if she talks it out it's better for her.)

But that's okay; she can talk as much as she wants. Cook listens.

\\\

He visits her every day. They sit on benches and talk, or don't, but he's always by her side. Sometimes there'll be a group doing activities like flying kites or planting flowers and they'll spend whole hours just watching them. One time there is a boy nearby, not more than ten, walking aimlessly—must be a visitor. He stops right in front of the two of them, just staring, looking Effy up and down in her hospital clothes.

"Do I look like a crazy person?" Effy says in a low voice, talking to no one in particular. "I must look like a crazy person. Or maybe he thinks I look normal and the hospital gown's confusing him. No, no, it's the first bit. Why is he still staring at me? Why won't he stop? Cook, why won't he stop?"

Cook hears a rising fear in her voice and responds in the only way he knows how. "Hey," he snaps at the kid. "Hey! What you lookin' at, mate?" The kid turns his attention to Cook.

"Leave us alone." When the kid still doesn't move Cook makes like he's about to lunge at him. "Do you speak English, man? Leave us the fuck alone!"

The kid runs away and Cook takes his seat again.

"Sweet," Effy says. "Thanks."

"Yeah," Cook says, shrugging. "Children."

"Even after all this time you were right."

Cook is pleased to see her trademark Effy smirk in place. He takes a drag from his fag and tries looking philosophic. "I'm always right," he says. "'bout what?"

"Everyone else is gone and you and me are all that's left. It's always going to be you and me."

Cook nods. "If that's how you want it, Eff. That's how it'll be if that's how you want it."

///

There is nowhere else Cook would rather be than sitting on this bench right now with Effy right next to him. But.

But he doesn't know how much more of the crazies he can take. Just a few minutes ago a bearded man with yellow sunglasses came up to them and asked Cook if he'd care to enjoy some of his homemade jam. A nurse came to take the man away soon enough but Cook was still left thinking of all the horrible things that could be in that jam-- to Effy's delight. She laughs at his sour expression.

The point is, being at the loony bin so often was starting to make Cook feel like one of the crazies.

"So when do you think you'll leave this place, Princess?"

"Don't rush me."

"It's been a year. I know what it's like to be stuck somewhere for that long. We have that in common, you and me. And it's not all peachy keen."

"I can't _just_ leave. Do you know what's out there? Do you have any idea?"

"Tell me."

"Bad men," Effy says simply.

She starts off on one of her rants. Cook knows how to spot them now: they sound like they're not meant to be heard by anyone but her. "I have to stay here. They can't get me here. I'm safe here, so long as I stay in bounds. I've been so safe the past few months. If I just stay in here everything will be alright." Turning to Cook she finally talks for his sake: "I have to stay," she says.

Freddie may have promised to keep the bad men away but it was Cook who followed through. He kept the bad men away in a way Freddie couldn't. "Listen to me, yeah?" Cook says, leaning in close. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. Ever." He'll kill all the bad men if he has to. He's done it before.

Effy nods, smiles like she believes him. "If I leave this place, will you stay with me?"

She looks at him so earnestly, so vulnerable, that it's enough to break Cook's heart. She needs him, and it doesn't matter if it's just as a friend. "'Course I will, Eff."

\\\

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

///

When Effy goes home, Cook comes with her.

The way it plays out is, Anthea comes to pick her up and Cook rides along too, but when they reach the house he doesn't make to leave.

"Well, thank you for helping with all of Effy's things, James," Anthea says, an obvious segway toward a goodbye.

"Mum, it's alright if Cook stays with us, right?" It's barely even a question and anyway Effy's just doing it as a formality.

"Stay? But… isn't there somewhere that… you live?" Anthea asks Cook shakily, like she asks most questions.

"He's at approved premises but its shit." Off her mother's look Effy adds, "He just got out of jail, remember?"

"Jail. Right, of course."

"We decided it's best if I stay," Cook says, very matter-of-fact.

"You decided, did you?"

Cook and Effy nod.

"Lovely," Anthea says.

And that's how that gets sorted out.

\\\

Effy has many fears, but one of her biggest is how potentially malleable she is, could still be. John Foster was able to change the way she thought, change her memories, change her past, change her mind, just like that. She's scared of it happening again.

He used to speak so often about happiness and Effy listened so hard that she's barely sure what happiness resembles anymore. She's mistrustful of her own thoughts and that's really no way to carry on. It's something she has to deal with all the time, but especially since Cook came back. If there's anyone that ever made her have mixed feelings, it's Cook.

They're standing in her room: bare and white, just as she'd left it, and Cook's lifting one of her duffels onto her bed, shaking out the contents. He's got a small scar on the bridge of his nose now and no one has to tell Effy where it came from. Does she like that scar? Does she hate it for being a constant reminder of John Foster? Of the very same weapon used on Freddie? Does she love him for having that scar? A war wound she's most grateful for. Does it make her happy? She asks herself.

"You're officially unpacked," Cook says.

All Effy knows is that when she saw Cook again for the first time she felt the closest thing to real happiness she'd felt in a year of nothing. She reaches out and touches the top of his nose with her index finger and Cook's eyebrows tick up but he doesn't move away. "What are ya doing?" he asks through a smile.

Cook made her happy and it was the first time she didn't have to second guess her own feelings. But he makes her second guess other things. She looks down at his lips. Does she want to kiss him? Does she want him to stay in her bed instead of her old bedroom? She likes the feel of his skin. Always has. Does she want to feel more? His chest, smooth and hard. Would she like to feel that? "Would that be the right thing to do?" She asks herself.

Her head and her heart fight it out. She used to be in control of these things. She used to have so much control.

"Effy?" Cook prods, the smile in his voice gone, replaced by something deeper. "What are ya doing?"

She puts her hand down, steps back, smiles. There's time enough to think about it all. "You make me happy, Cook."

"You make me happy too, Eff."

\\\

His shirt's a little stained at the collar and his tie is a bit too short but Cook's walking home with a spring in his step because today's a good day.

But his mood changes completely when he sees Effy outside, standing by a car, talking to some bloke.

He walks to them, steps between Effy and him. "Who are you?" Though, by the time he's done asking he already knows the answer. Cook recognizes the tall frame, eyes, wonky eyebrows from pictures around the house. He still doesn't ease up even though he knows by now this is Effy's brother. In the flesh. At fucking last.

"Cook, this is Tony, my brother," Effy says. "Tony, Cook."

Effy's brother's wonky eyebrows go up. "Heard a lot about you." He sticks his hand out to shake, look on his face all smug. Cook feels like punching him. No real reason. Or if there is, it's not something Cook can make sense of. All he knows is a minute ago it was a good day and now it takes everything not to punch this bloke—her brother—in the face.

///

The four of them sit at each end of the table, Anthea, Tony, Effy, Cook, and it's almost like a real family dinner. To Cook it is, anyway. He devours his mash and peas and the sound around the table is mostly clanks and clatters. Cook wonders if this is what family dinner means.

"Cardiff," he says. It's almost a burp. Almost. Not quite. May as well be, though. "Cardiff."

"Cardiff," Effy says. She's either conspiring with him, making conversation, or talking to herself. Cook chooses the first option .

"Top uni," Cook says.

"It's alright. I'm trying to get Effy to apply. Her A levels alone would get her in."

Cook nods, chews. "Cardiff," he says.

"So, what do you do, Cook?"

"Delinquent," he manages in between mouthfuls.

"So I've heard."

Tony turns to his sister, shares a look with her Cook doesn't understand. "But, things are about to change," he says. He wipes his mouth with his napkin and builds up anticipation. Anthea and Effy look at him expectantly. Tony just looks at him. "I got a job today," Cook says. "Going to be a cooker at Barty's Pub."

"Cook, that's great," Effy says.

"Well done, Cook," Anthea says, too proud.

"Cook the cook," Tony says.

"Well it's no Cardiff but we don't all have the brains of the legendary Tony Stonem now do we."

"Have you got a problem with me, _Cook_? Because if you do I'd be more than happy to—"

"Desserts! Would anybody like desserts!" Anthea shoots up, dodges into the kitchen to put together a tray.

"Don't fight boys," Effy says. The fingers of her right hand do a little dance, like they're antsy, and she brings her hand to her mouth briefly before putting it back down. Cook knows she wants a cigarette. Tony reaches into his breast pocket and hands one to her.

\\\

After dinner but before going to sleep Tony goes outside for a smoke. Cook's already there, though, sitting on the front step. He could be a guard dog. A german shepard with a fag sticking out of his mouth and a hoodie pulled over his ears. _Where does Effy pick these strays up_, Tony wonders.

He goes outside and takes a seat beside him. Cook turns, gives him a sideways glance, up and down, takes another drag.

"Would you believe me if I said my mother didn't tell me about Effy until after it all happened? Didn't tell me my own sister tried to off herself til after the fact. Didn't tell me she'd been committed. I think she was hoping it would all be a passing phase and I'd come home for summer holidays and we'd be a normal family again. Would you believe me if I told you that?"

Cook shakes his head, shrugs like the answer's all too easy. "Naw."

"I came to see her. I was here more than I was at university. Term before last all my grades went to shit."

"Sorry to hear that."

"But there's not much you could do with a catatonic sister is there? I mean, what was I supposed to do? Her boyfriend had just been murdered."

"Don't talk about him, mate," Cook says, shakes his head from side to side like a warning.

Tony flicks his cigarette, watching as the ashes fall. "She could barely even remember who I was at first. Like I'd been completely wiped out of her mind. My little sister. She couldn't even remember me."

He realizes he's too deep in the memory of it; in the emotion. What tips him off is the way Cook's looking at him, sympathetic, like he might want to offer him a tissue. Tony sits straighter, determined to get back to the topic at hand.

"Do you love her?"

"I don't love anything else, man," Cook says. "She's it. She's all I love."

For a moment Tony sees himself in Cook. Knows exactly what he means.

"As soon as she started getting better she began telling me about you. I thought maybe it was too soon for her to talk about Freddie because all she'd talk about was you. She told me you'd saved her from oncoming traffic. Said how you'd killed the 'bad man.' That as soon as you were free again you'd come back for her. Protect her. She was waiting for you."

Tony avoids Cook's gaze, staring intently at his cigarette instead, almost completely devoured by ash. "It kind of broke my heart, you know. I used to be that person for her." He stands up and flicks the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out with the toe of his shoe. "I was worried that you weren't going to show. And then I saw you here, saw how she is with you." And now he does look Cook in the eye because this is important. "She's better now that you're here, Cook. She's a zillion times better. And it's because you're good for her."

It's not the reaction Tony expects but Cook starts to cry. Not too much, no sobbing or anything like that but he's wiping his eyes with the heels of his hands and his face has gone red. Tony's a little embarrassed for him, even. He's not entirely sure what to do with such a blatant outpouring of emotion. He would pat him on the shoulder if he knew him better. But he thinks he understands. "You've probably heard differently from everyone else—maybe even yourself. But I know Effy better than anyone. And you are good for her, Cook."

Cook sniffs, snorts, does whatever it takes to pull back the few tears that already escaped. "Thanks," he says, nodding. "Thank you."

\\\

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

And now we come to the end. Thanks for reading! (big thanks for those who reviewed ;) )

\\\

They've developed a sort of routine.

Cook comes home late (on account of his job at the pub) and Effy's always up (on account of her not sleeping well) and he brings home for her the fish and chips he's cooked that night. She eats the chips, leaves the fish, always.

It's a routine, and these sorts of things make up the meaning of domesticity.

Except, there isn't anything remotely domestic about Cook and Effy.

It scares Cook how much he lets himself fantasize about building a life with her. All that's happened recently-- living with her, getting a job-- it almost feels real. He lets himself fantasize and he thinks: one day he'll marry her. One day they'll have an accident, they'll have a baby, they'll call him James. One day he'll buy a house for her. Probably not in that order.

But Cook knows better.

He knows that no matter how hard he tries to run away from the life that's destined for him it'll always come back to bite him in the arse. He's not going to uni or getting a fancy job. His future is bright with trouble and fights, arrests and dead-end jobs, and it'll be a miracle if he doesn't end up back in jail.

And Effy can't be tied down. She's meant to do great things, see the world, enchant them all. She is timeless. Not bound by anyone. (Something Freds never had the foresight to see.)

Living together now, it's like playing house-- complete with the sexless marriage. But even though it's all just pretend, Cook wouldn't give it up for anything.

Right now there's fish and chips and the two of them up in the middle of the night. She smiles and her eyes sparkle as she dips her fry into the ketchup. Cook wouldn't give it up for a thing.

///

The nightmare's got her sitting up in bed.

The nightmares—of which she's had plenty in the past year—make her weary of closing her eyes again. But this is her first nightmare since being back home, and sitting in the center of her cold, white bedroom, alone in the middle of the night, is unfamiliar and a little terrifying.

"Everything's okay," she whispers to herself, blinks her eyes wide open, draws her knees up to her chin. "Everything's alright," she says. "Everything I touch turns to shit," she says. "It's my fault he's dead," she says.

She sits, she stares.

"Cook." She's standing beside his bed. She nudges him and he groans. "Cook."

He blinks and when he sees her he opens his eyes wider, lifts himself on his elbows. "What is it, Eff?"

"Can't sleep."

Cook nods like he's falling back asleep but after a moment of her still standing there he finally says, "Oh," and moves aside to make room for her. By the time she gets under the covers he's just as awake as she is. They're lying so close they touch. He sleeps in nothing but boxer shorts.

"So why can't you sleep?"

She can't sleep and she doesn't want to sleep because of the nightmares. Sometimes she's in the woods with eerie shadow men, sometimes there's Freddie and blood. She doesn't like to think of them. She doesn't even like to talk about them. Instead she says, "I feel like I've been asleep for a year. Sometimes I think I'm in a dream even when I know I'm not. I feel like I can't tell my dreams and my reality apart anymore. I don't…" She doesn't expect him to understand and the look on his face tells her he's trying, but, ultimately, doesn't. "I need to wake up, Cook."

He brings her closer to him, squeezes her, whispers, "You are awake. There's just you and me." He holds her closer. "This is real."

\\\

It is a feeling that is purely physical. With everything else there's the mental, the emotional, but with this, knuckles pounding hard flesh, over and over again, it's just a blank, physical sensation that does not require him to think—only to act. The way Cook fights, he keeps punching until someone pulls him off, and this time it's Effy. She yanks him back, off his knees, takes his bloodied hand, and runs with him as far away from the crowd as possible, until they are good and lost, shadowed by dark buildings.

Some streets later she lets go, pushes him against a brick wall. The way she looks at him as they catch their breath she is clearly the saner of the two. "What the fuck, Cook!"

They had gone out, for the first time in a while for either of them; it was supposed to be a night of dancing but they didn't even make it into the club. Cook didn't like the way some bloke was trying to chat her up. Next thing he knew, he was in a fight.

"What did you do that for?"

Cook realizes there will always be guys because that's Effy: she's too beautiful. She attracts them. And though he's always fought blindly like that, throwing punches like it was sport, the things is, it used to be emotional. There used to be jealousy. There used to be pride. Now there is blank. This is all her fault and she doesn't get to be mad. If he's like this it's because of John Foster.

He doesn't answer her—just walks off, listening for her footsteps following close behind.

///

She comes into his bedroom often now. Sometimes she doesn't even have bad dreams.

She climbs into bed with him and he makes room for her without a word. It feels simultaneously right and wrong somehow. Even though Freddie's been dead for a year she feels a pang of guilt when she goes to Cook now. But she doesn't _go_ so much as _gravitate_.

When she's in the bed she can't help but get closer, and when she gets closer she can't help but nestle into his arms.

And even though it should, it doesn't surprise her when, soon, she feels something hard against her thigh. She looks down, cocks an eyebrow, whispers, "Morning slugger." If Cook's embarrassed he doesn't show it. Instead he smiles widely. "Sorry, Princess. It's been a long year."

"Year?" Effy asks. "A whole year of nothing?" Sure, he's been in jail, but he's been out for a while. More than enough time for him to get some, anyway.

"A whole year of nothing," Cook confirms.

"Me too."

With his arms still squeezed around her he kisses her lips, long and deep. Effy doesn't remember Cook ever kissing her like that. And maybe it's just been too long but she can't remember any kisses like that at all. Long and deep like he might just fall asleep that way. The pang of guilt—it's brief and fleeting and pretty soon she doesn't feel it at all.

\\\

Cook lies in bed, his fingers entwined behind his head as he looks up at the ceiling, waiting. It's another routine they've developed. He knows Effy'll show up any minute, close the door quietly behind her, and put her finger to her lips to indicate that they need to be quiet: Anthea is sleeping. She used to say there were nightmares but now there aren't even excuses anymore. She just comes by when it's time to sleep, and Cook wouldn't dare stop her.

He has never been quiet for anything in his life, but he gladly waits for Effy to step inside and put her finger over her lips. This time, though, she closes the door and crosses to the bed, kissing him hard before Cook even has the chance to pull the covers back. She shoves her hand beneath his waistband and pulls on him and though Cook would love nothing more than to let her go on, he breaks their kiss. He searches her eyes.

He feels guilty for thinking it, but a part of him feels like he deserves her now that she's just as broken as he always was. But now that he looks at her she doesn't seem broken at all.

He doesn't care if he scares her away but he has to tell her so she understands. "I love you," he says.

She smiles and kisses him again. She lingers on his lips.

///

Sometimes she'll get into bed and they'll talk and talk. He'll ask her something like, "What are you going to be when you grow up, Eff?" and she'll say, "A silent film actress." Cook will nod, smirk. "Yeah, 'course."

She'll ask, "Do you ever think about the future? Getting married? Having children?"

"I don't think that's in the cards for me, Peachy."

She'll nod and say, "I never want to have a child. I never will."

Sometimes they won't talk at all and the only noise will be the bed timidly squeaking, her quick breaths in his ear; he'll hear he moans in the way she grips his shoulders.

He'll have his arms around midsection, his chin in the crook of her neck, and he'll whisper, "I'll buy you a house one day."

She is his comfort. And he hopes he can be hers. Even if all this is is just solace.

\\\

THE END.


End file.
